Growing Up in Small Town America Part 4

 

Picture taken in 1960

SUNDAYS

Sundays were set aside for family and church. No stores were open, only church doors. We attended the First Baptist Church of Vernon every Sunday, some Sunday nights and often on Wednesday nights. Daddy served as an usher for awhile, and I believe he was asked to be a Deacon, of which he declined.  I had clothes that were considered Sunday School clothes, usually complimented with patton leather shoes. Mother would put a roast in the oven before we left the house and complete the meal after church. Then we would all eat together in our comfy clothes. Sometimes we would make the trek to Crowell to eat our Sunday meal with Mimi and Pappy and other extended family. I'm certain that I was molded in my formative years by my participation with my church family.  We had a magnificent church with high vaulted ceilings, stained glass windows, aisles leading to the altar, a choir loft with the Baptismal above that.  There was a magical pipe organ accompanied by a piano. We had hymnals in the pocket on the pews in front of us. At about at age10, I dedicated my life to Christ and was baptized in the church, the same church that I would be married in 12 years later.  I remember how exciting it was when I was finally allowed to sit WAY up in the balcony with other kids.  I felt very independent and sometimes the pastor had to remind us to pay attention to the sermon :) Our Sundays usually ended in a Sunday afternoon drive, winding our way around all the rural roads surrounding Vernon. There was never a destination; we would just drive, usually ending at the newly opened and locally owned Dairy Queen. I often got a chili cheeseburger and a chocolate milkshake in the winter. I loved singing in the youth choir. I would attend practice twice a week, and when we performed, we donned the white choir robes with blue neck sashes. I also played hand bells and adored the sweet sounds that were created. Most always I attended Sunday School and Vacation Bible School in the summer.  

Looking back on it, I don't believe that I ever knew anyone who didn't know Jesus, until recently. We were governed by the Ten Commandments, good judgment and common sense, and we learned how to cope with death by knowing Jesus.